Category Archives: creative writing

Here we go.

I keep trashing every blog I begin tonight.  I don’t know what it is.  Nothing sounds right, nothing is flowing properly, and I’ve backspaced the end of this sentence a solid five times already trying to come up with a third sentence closer.  Why do I need a third anyway?  I feel like I learned that in grammar school…if you’re writing an essay always have three ideas to touch on such as, “this, this and the other thing.”  Whatever, this isn’t an essay.  I’m writing a blog for the sake of writing a blog right now…and I know you guys have heard my “forced writing is bad writing” line before, so I’ll save it.

Lately, I’ve been turning to my dreams as my artistic inspiration.  The things I’ve written, the things I’ve shot, and the things I plan to shoot were and are all memories of thoughts that sped through my unconscious mind as I slept.  Dreams that I can’t get out of my head.  They’re imprinted there, stuck, as if they’re supposed to be there.

Remember our dancer friend from Language?  If not, go check it out…I’ll wait here…Okay, great.  Now that we’re all caught up, she began as a daydream and has followed me day in and day out, while I’m awake, while I sleep, my mind’s creative representation of what I long for.  These dreams, sometimes so real  I wake to a bitter disappointment that everything happened in my head.

Maybe someday I’ll be able to make it all real.

As always, I’m RJ and hey, a girl can dream right…?


1 Comment

Filed under creative writing, Just a thought, Just because, Just for fun, photography, Uncategorized


Has anyone noticed that language has become so incredibly underrated?  It makes me sad to say the least.  We have access to such beautiful words and phrases, yet we take them for granted, ignore them, and overuse phrases such as “YOLO”.  Stop.  Of course, I can’t blame Drake for my generation’s complete and utter disregard for language as it began to fall away long before he decided to remind us that we do, in fact, only live once.

I miss long-winded ways to say simple things.  For example, when Shakespeare described Romeo and Juliet as “star-crossed lovers” he meant they were unlucky, but “unlucky” is so plain.  “Star-crossed”…I want to breathe that in, it’s sigh-enducing, his words are tear-worthy.  But in today’s society we’re all about the now, the fast paced, the send-a-message-and-go mentality.  In a world where “LOL” and “BRB” are taking over, how can I, or anyone for that matter, ensure that the underlying nature of our words are still beautiful?

Now, I’m not saying I don’t “lol” as often as the next guy, because I certainly do…but for each acronym placed ironically or otherwise I try my best to counteract with carefully crafted phrases because language means so much to me.  It annoys some people which I think is a sign of the times, but finding people who appreciate someone who takes the time out to think before they speak (text, email, you get the idea) is a special thing.

I’ve been a slave to the written and spoken word my entire life.  I’ve absorbed words and phrases like a sponge for a long as I can remember.  I love to talk, even more-so, I love to listen.  I love to pick up new phrases, meaningful phrases.  For me, the way you speak is just as important as the way you move.  A conversation is a dance, I move, you move, we repeat…sometimes we speak at the same time, sometimes one can’t speak until the other does, one may lead while the other picks up the cues, and vice versa.  I have this picture in my mind that I carry around with me almost every time I write and I’d like for you to see it too.

Breathe in deeply, feel the air filling your lungs.  As you exhale I want you to picture a light fog, and a naturally illuminated room with floor to ceiling windows as far as your eye can see.  The floors and walls alike are deep mahogany wood, and in the center of that wooden room: a ballet dancer holding an arabesque, seemingly frozen in time.  Her hair is pulled up off of her face, her limbs are stretched and stiff, yet she looks so delicate, soft, breakable.  She wears the palest pink leotard and of course the telltale sign of a ballerina, a tutu.  She is unaware of your presence, you are but a fly on the wall, and as she begins to move, your heart begins to break, unassured that you will ever see someone move with such grace, poise and beauty ever again.  She glides through the air as though she were meant to own her very own set of wings, and her movements leave you speechless.  She is lost in thought, this routine is nothing new to her, she moves with ease.  As she completes her routine, you see a faint smile cross her lips.  Though no one is watching she is proud of the show she has just put on, because she felt it in her very soul.  As you inhale, the light fog lifts, the dancer is gone and the shades draw themselves submersing the room in complete darkness.  And just as easily as the scene was painted by a breath, it is closed, only to be revisited if you so wish.

I hope you carry the vision of our graceful dancer friend with you, as I do.  Use her as a reminder to paint a unique masterpiece with your words every time you speak.  Use her as a reminder that every phrase is a new movement, a brush stroke, a photo taken.  At the root of each art form is patience, you wouldn’t rush a painting, why rush your language?

As always, my name is Rebecca and I want to paint as many pictures with my words as humanly possible.


Filed under creative writing, Just a thought, Just because, Just for fun, music

Book Coloring.

As of late, I’ve been seeing a really cool trend erupt.  One I have no name for and can only describe as “book coloring” or “blackout book coloring” both of which yield no helpful search results as far as Google is concerned…great.  As shown in the photo I have attached below, you take any book of your choosing and make your own phrases out of the already published work.

How interesting?  To be so moved by someone else’s work that you would like to use their words to create something of your own.  Conversely, how interesting to be so unmoved by a previously published work that you’d want to deface the book and make it something of your own.  Either way I find this trend completely fascinating as the possibilities are endless.  You can say however much or little as you’d like and the outcome is only dictated by the content already on the page as well as your own imagination.

Thoughts?  Would you deface a book for artistic purposes?  I for one would love to try this out.  Think about it…how many of us have books our professors make us buy that we probably will never look at again after college?  All of us.  And how many times is the return to the bookstore or the post on Amazon not even worth the effort?  Frequently.  See what you can dig up and get back to me, I’d love to see more of this happening.

I found this on and while I do not know the origins of the photo or by who’s hand the book was colored, I absolutely love this.

As always, I am RJ and if you’re anything like me you’ve strayed from this blog for a while.  If this is your first time here, welcome, and if you’re a repeat offender, welcome back, it’s nice to see you again.

Leave a comment

Filed under creative writing, Just a thought, Just because, Just for fun, poem

Anxious. (September 11, 2012)

“Come on, I’m anxious,” you said,

and we walked.

If only you knew how anxious you make me.

How long I lie awake at night,

memories rolling like waves through my consciousness

until the sound finally puts me to sleep.

Sleep. Ha.

Just when I think I’ll find relief…

a place where my mind can escape, rest,

but you continue to haunt me, unknowingly.

So there you are.

When I wake – a dream standing before me,

When I sleep – a nightmare destined to break my heart.

I need to learn to shy from your touch.

Your intention is not to hurt me, I know it.

Your touch doesn’t sting on contact,

but it lingers,

Sinks beneath the surface and travels through me,

Eventually finding its way to the depths of my heart,

It constricts the beating,

Which constricts my breathing,

So I am being quite literal when I say,

You kill me.

Leave a comment

Filed under creative writing, Just a thought, Just because, Just for fun, poem, spoken word

Honesty. (May 15, 2012)

I want to reach out to you, if that’s okay?

I want to dance back and forth

with our words flowing freely.

Lines upon lines

and laughing,

yours so sweet, delicate,

mine nervous.

You make me nervous.

But I can’t keep starting these dances if you will not return the movements with ease.

I can tell you are straining,

I can tell for you it seems forced.

So tell me.

I want to hold you.

Why can’t I hold you?

I should never have told you

How I feel.

Now I’m embarrassed,

passionate about nothing,

sad for no reason,

we are nothing,

we are friends.

But I want to hold you.

I want to make you mine.

But I will never have you.

I will never hold you.

You cannot hold someone in your grasp when their spirit is so free.

You’re disconnected.

In touch with the world as it is.

The extras don’t matter to you,

but they’re the only things that keep me connected to you when I’m away.

If you could pick up my notebook

and read the words I’ve written about you

you’ll either fall in love with me or have me committed.

Well, I am crazy.

Crazy about you,

about what we could be,

so commit me,

or better yet, commit to me.

Hand me your heart, I promise I’ll hold it.

And I’ll keep it.

Safe from anyone with an acid touch.  You know the kind.

Touches that create holes,

leave cracks,

grasping so tightly all I can do is lose it.

My cool.  I’ve lost my cool.

Don’t let me lose you too.

You don’t even know yet what I could do for you.

What I would do for you.

I told you honestly

that honesty is my favorite of policies

and honestly my honesty

is making me tell you things

and ask you things, my heart is seeking your answers.

I don’t get you.

Maybe you’re not right for me

because they say if you’re chasing and getting nowhere

eventually you have to know when to walk away with your dignity.

And if I walk away and you don’t come after me,

my heart gets its most important answer.  Honestly.

Leave a comment

Filed under creative writing, Just a thought, Just for fun, poem, spoken word